


Her Lion (After Corypheus)

by TheMightyZan



Series: Nell and Cullen [4]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-07 19:22:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4275075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMightyZan/pseuds/TheMightyZan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of one shots (in no particular order) about Inquisitor Tirnel Lavellan and her Commander, Cullen Rutherford.</p>
<p>Prepare for awkwardness and sarcasm.</p>
<p>All of these stories are set after the defeat of Corypheus.</p>
<p>NSFW chapters will be marked</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. This Does it for You?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So very not safe for work

“This is ridiculous.”

Nell smiled to herself as the muffled words filtered through to her from the changing room and leaned back against her hands on the bed.  She had known that Cullen would think it was ridiculous when she first presented him with the outfit that she had brought back with her, but that thought had been a distant one when she had first seen it gracing the figures of some of the Avvar warriors.  In fact there had been little thought when she had first seen it other than a very quick and vivid picture of it gracing her favorite commander.

She had bought one of the outfits immediately.

“Are you going to keep saying that, or are you going to come out so I can form my own opinion?”

There was a pause before the door popped open and Cullen took a few tentative steps out.  He was blushing, quite spectacularly, the bright red of it mottling his face and neck and running down across his… very bare chest.

Nell felt her smile widen as she stood from the bed and made her way over to him.  The reality of the outfit on the Avvar warriors had been an altogether different reality than what it was on Cullen.  Where they had been large, the thick muscles of their arms and legs reminding her a little too much of Bull, Cullen was somehow leanly broad.  She lifted a hand to his chest where chill bumps had caused the skin to catch at her fingers and took a quick step around him.  She was surprised that he had put on all the pieces, every detail exact even down to the cords that draped across his chest, but then again this was the same man who woke up early every morning just so he could fix his hair.

Speaking of…

When she reached up to scrub her hands through his hair, sending the locks rioting over his forehead and around his ears, he grabbed her wrists and brought them down between them, an amused smile settling over his still red face.  “This armor is completely useless against swords and magic.”

“I don’t think that’s the point,” she replied, her fingers flexing as she stepped back from him to take in the whole effect.  The leather vest was pulled back from his chest by the linen ropes that hooked around his arms, and the hide breeches and flap hung low enough on his waist to show his belly button, and she couldn’t help dipping a finger into it then running it down the trail of hair to where it disappeared behind the cloth belt that wrapped around his hips.

All in all… it was a very nice look.

She heard him chuckle and turned her attention from where she had been studying the rope wrapped around his boots to his face, and the far more attractive than it should be tumble of hair that now brushed down around his eyebrows.  “What’s funny?”

“I’m just surprised.  You never said you went for the… rustic look.”

Nell caught her tongue between her teeth a moment as she looked back over him again then grinned.  “Well, I think the fur collar could be bigger but besides that…”  She trailed off and caught at the rope wrapped cloth around his wrist.  “I have an idea.”

“Should I be worried?”

She winked at him and tugged until he sighed and followed her, his free hand coming up to rub at his neck as she pulled him down the stairs and through the doors until they reached the one that lead into the main hall.  He finally balked as she went to open the door.

“Wait… you want to go into the main hall?”

“Yes.”  She dropped his arm and pushed the door open enough to peek out.  It was late so she had hopes that no one would be around, and her hopes were answered by the ringing silence of the empty space.

Cullen grabbed at her hand when she went to open the door further and pulled her back.  “Anyone can walk into there, Nell.”

“I know, but I have a powerful need, Commander.”

“A need?”

“Mmhmm.”  She stepped towards him and lifted her hands to run across his chest again, fingers curling a bit so her nails could catch at his skin, light red marks following in their wake as they scrapped down his chest and to his stomach.  “A need.”

She felt him hesitate a moment before his hands lifted hesitantly to her hips.  “What need is that?”  He tipped his head forward as he spoke, lips ghosting over the tip of her ear and causing her to shiver.

“Come with me and I’ll show you.”

He let her turn to open the door and pull him through it, their steps echoing lightly in the empty hall.  She guided him up the dais then pushed him in front of her and towards the throne.

She had gotten the Avvar throne several months before, a present from the father of the Hand of Korth for killing his “idiot son” and giving him weapons before “exiling” him to Tevinter.  She had immediately begun to use it, amused by the way it caused the Orlesians to stutter and stumble over themselves in fear and annoyance.

She had also enjoyed the scowling fire pot that sat next to it, its sharp teeth a silent menace to all who stood in judgment.

Now… now it played perfectly into her ideas and she smiled as Cullen took the hint and settled into the seat, the large fish jaws giving a mocking smile above his confused expression.  She turned and took a step down from the throne before turning to drop to her knees before him.  When he started to rise she shook her head and settled her hands onto her thighs.

“My Lord, you’ve stolen me as your bride and so I am yours to command.  What would you have of me?”  When he sat up at her words, mouth opening to say something, she waved him off before gesturing for him to go with it.

It took a moment but Cullen finally blinked at her and sat back again.  “Really?  This is what you needed?  I don’t even think this is how it actually works with them.”

She simply dropped her gaze to her lap a moment, lip catching between her teeth as she hooked her hands together.  “I’m willing to do whatever is required of me to show my allegiance to you.”

Cullen hesitated another moment, gaze raking over her before he seemed to come to a decision.  He settled back against the throne, thighs spreading and arms settling on the armrests, before he finally spoke.  “Come here, on your knees.”

He looked the part of some fallen god or barbarian king, all leather and skin and lazy amusement as she started towards him, and she was surprised with how quickly he was able to fall into the role.  His golden brown eyes were hot under the curling blonde of his hair, and his lips tilted slightly up on one side as he watched her move towards him even as his legs opened more so that she could settle between them.

“You say you are willing to do anything, woman.  I want you to show me how well you can pleasure me.”

Cullen made no move to help her after issuing his order, instead simply falling silent again, eyes locked on her as she bent her head over his lap.  She wasn’t sure what it was about the tone or the whole look of him, but she could already feel pleasure pooling in her stomach, and she squeezed her legs together against the ache between them as she rested her hands on his thighs and lowered her face towards his still clothed crotch.

Surprisingly, or not if she really thought on how he was acting, Cullen was already half hard as Nell nuzzled her nose against the hide that covered him.  She moved a hand to press over his cock, kneading the flesh of it through his clothes until he let out a long breath and shifted against her.

“Take them off,” he muttered, and waited until she had unhooked the cloth from around his waist before lifting his hips and letting her slide his pants down.  She wasted no time in leaning forward again so that she could snake a tongue out to tease over him, the tip of it finding the vein on the underside of his cock and pressing there.  He hissed out a breath and seemed to push himself closer to the edge of the seat as she passed her tongue over him again.  Nell took it as a hint to continue and lapped up to the crown and over the slit in the head where a bead of moisture had already formed.

Cullen finally moved, his hands shifting to play over her shoulder before moving to cup around her head.  “I-I want you to suck it.”

The words were stuttered and had her smiling against him before she opened her mouth to obey him.

Nell had always enjoyed the feel of him, thick and silken in her mouth, and she twirled her tongue around his shaft before sucking lightly as she pulled almost completely off of him.  She repeated the movement a few times before she felt his fingers fist into her hair, the sharp tug of his grip on her scalp causing another bolt of pleasure to shoot to her groin before he shifted his hips up into her mouth.

When she let out a moan, the sound reverberating around him, he did it again, his grip tightening, until he had picked up a steady rhythm, his cock pushing in and out of her mouth until she began to feel him swell against her lips and she closed her eyes in preparation for his completion.

And was completely surprised when he used his grip on her hair to yank her away from him and back onto her haunches.

She swiped a hand over her mouth as she eyed him.  He was breathing heavy, his chest rising and falling raggedly as he stared at her.  When he finally spoke again, it was ragged and deep.  “Take off your clothes.”

She didn’t hesitate in obeying him, rising swiftly to her feet even as she unbuttoned her top.  The cool air of the drafty hall played over her nipples as they were exposed and caused them to pucker, and she noticed how Cullen’s gaze locked on them as she bent to remove her pants.  Straightening again she was distantly reminded that they were in the main hall, that anyone could walk in at any moment.  The thought had her breath deepening and her hands fidgeting restlessly against her bare hips.

He stared at her a moment before making a faint gesture towards himself.  “Come here.”

Nell blew out a breath and moved towards him, her knees knocking roughly against the bare stone of the throne as she straddled his hips.  She lifted her hands to his shoulders as his settled on her waist and held her just above him, the tip of his member brushing lightly against her center and causing her to gasp even as his grip tightened.

“Maker, Nell, you’re so…” he trailed off and she felt his hips jerk once before he got himself back under control.  “You’re so wet.”  The break of character was momentary and over before she could even reply.  Almost before she could process it his grip on her had tightened and he was lowering her down along his length, the slow fulfillment causing them both to moan as they tilted their foreheads together.

She wanted to grind herself down on him, ride him until the ache between her thighs was overcome and she was crying out his name, but his grip stopped her from setting the pace that would build her pleasure.  Instead he kept her still while he worked himself in and out of her slowly; when he finally did speak again it was another order that had her almost cursing in response.

“Don’t move.”

As he continued to pump himself in and out of her, while she stayed perched above him, he lifted one hand to slide along her jaw.  His touch was soft until he swiped his index finger over her lips and then pressed until she opened for him.  He slid his finger into her mouth, playing over her tongue a moment before setting a pace that matched the rocking of his hips.  It lasted for several minutes, the steady pumping into her heat and her mouth until she was gasping and fighting against the need for more, faster, anything that helped her step over the precipice that he seemed content to let her stand at.

As if he heard her unspoken begging the world was suddenly swirling around her as he slid his arm around her waist and reversed their positions.  Before she could grasp what was happening her knees were hitting the stone floor hard enough to cause her to gasp even as her hands sought purchase on the unpolished stone of the throne.  She felt him kneeling behind her, the hide of his pants rubbing against her legs and causing them to tingle as he adjusted himself and set the blunt tip of his cock back against her entrance.

Raw sounds escaped her throat as he plunged into her.  There was no slow leisurely pace this time, no teasing pressure before claiming, no, there was only a sudden relentless pace as he wasted no time in plunging in and out of her.

Nell scrapped her fingers against stone as she rocked forward before finally giving up and simply pressing her cheek against the back of the throne.  It held her in place enough that she could press back against him, meeting his thrusts as she felt one of his hands pass up her spine and bury itself in her hair as it had when she had had him in her mouth earlier.  He used his grip to steady himself, seeming to move faster as she let out a low, mewling sound at the way his balls slapped over and over against her clit.

She thought she might have started begging at some point, but the words were falling in stuttered moans from her lips and even she couldn’t understand them.

While the pace didn’t lessen, she felt the shift in the angle of it when he leaned over and pressed his lips to her ear, his voice breathless as he spoke.  “Tell me what you want.”

“I want to come… please!”  She almost cried it even as she tried to turn her face to his already retreating mouth.  He released her hair and flexed his fingers against her back before sliding them around to her front, his index finger seeking out the bundle of nerves that would send her tumbling over the edge.

It only took a few moments of him pressing against her clit before pleasure shot through her and sent her shaking and screaming over the edge loud enough to wake half of Skyhold.  It was only a few seconds later that she heard him curse and bury himself against her as she felt the spurting heat of his release fill her.

They both collapsed against the throne gasping as their pleasure began to ebb, and Nell was dimly aware of Cullen’s lips pressed into the skin of her neck before she was being tilted around again and settled against his chest as he sat back into the stone seat.

It was several minutes later that she pulled back enough to smile at his somewhat dazed face.  “Are you alright?”

He laughed at the question, a weak sound that was almost lost even in the silence, and tightened his hold around her even as he tilted his face up to hers.  “Yes.  Are you?”

“Yes.”

So that… that really does it for you?”

She lifted one of his hands to her mouth and smiled against it before replying.  “It seems to really do it for you too.”

Cullen laughed again and leaned up to press a kiss to her lips before glancing down at her bare form.  “We should probably get your clothes back on.”

“Probably”

He nodded and cuddled her closer, his mouth moving to her pulse where it beat faintly against the skin of her neck.  “You first.”

It was her turn to laugh as she forced herself out of his lap and away from him, their mutual sighs of resignation at having to move mixing in the air as they bent to her clothing and set about putting her to rights.


	2. Snort

Her head was cold.

She made a face against it and turned to press her nose into the pillow, her breath in the small cove she created warming the very tip of her face.

After a moment she felt the covers that she had cocooned herself in being pulled down further.

“Nell.”

She grumbled at the voice and pressed herself further into the pillow. “Go away.”

“It’s nearly noon.”

“I killed a darkspawn magister, I am allowed to sleep until noon.”

She could almost hear the chuckle that accompanied another tug. “That was over two weeks ago. Josephine has informed me that you have spent enough time holed up, and you have to come and meet with the nobles who have arrived whether you want to or not.”

She grumbled again.

“She also told me to tell you that you have to act friendly.”

She groaned at the words and flipped over, her hands grasping at the covers and giving them a halfhearted tug back up as she studied the blond man standing beside the bed.

“I’m always friendly.”

He stared at her a moment before laughing, and since the sound never failed to amuse her she couldn’t help grinning in response.

“Go ahead, pull the other one.”

“Well, I’m not mean.”

They smiled at each other another for a few seconds before she gave an exaggerated sigh and flopped herself from the bed. “Fine. Fine.”

She staggered past him and into the changing room, shooting her words back over her shoulder. “But you have to come with me.”

She could hear him moving closer to the door before he replied. “I have work I need to do with the troops that are about to head out.”

She frowned at him as she pulled the shirt of her under armor over her arms and began buttoning it.

“I wasn’t aware of any troop movement.”

“Because you’ve been holed up for the past two weeks.”

She scrunched her nose at him before moving forward to kiss his chin. “Don’t act like you weren’t holed up here with me most of the time.”

He slid his arms around her waist and it suddenly hit her that he wasn’t dressed in his usual armor. She blinked at him and stepped back a bit to look down at his chest and shoulders where there was a distinct lack of fur.

“What are you wearing?”

He dropped his hands from her hips and looked away while tugging at the hem of his blue tailored coat.

“Clothes, why?”

“You aren’t wearing your armor.”

“I don’t always wear armor.”

“Yes you do.”

He frowned at her and lifted his hand to rub it over his neck. “I was informed that now that Corypheus has been defeated I have to look less… formidable when dealing with our guests. Apparently it gives a bad impression to look serious and be wearing armor all the time.”

She could feel her smile widening as he spoke. “Josephine is making you dress up for the nobles.” At his distinctly uncomfortable look she had to bite back a laugh. “Well,” she said lightly as she stepped to him again and lifted her hands to run them over his back, “if it helps, I like the idea of easier access to you.”

“Is that so?”

She made a sound of agreement and rose up on her toes to cover his smiling mouth with hers, which he allowed for approximately ten seconds before pulling her away.

“You aren’t going to distract me.”

She groaned and spun away from him, her knees bending as she mimed falling out through the door and into the main room before tumbling back onto the bed. Cullen followed her and came to stand between her knees, his legs brushing hers where they hung off the side.

“There are only five of them, if that helps.”

She waved her arms in the air above her in mock excitement before dropping them out to her sides. “Don’t tell me that. I can easily set five people on fire. Tell me there’s fifty and the only way I can get to lunch is by stroking each of their egos.”

She slid her eyes closed as he smiled at her and felt him reach down to take her hands. She let him pull her up to a sitting position, but kept her eyes shut as she heard him move off again.

There was silence for a bit before she heard him return and felt the familiar weight of her outer robe pulled around her. He waited as she slid her arms into the sleeves and then lifted her to her feet.

She finally opened her eyes when he simply stood there with her hands tucked into his, and offered him a smile. “If I stand here long enough will you carry me down?”

His lips twitched and he gave a shake of his head. “No. It would hardly look heroic for the Inquisitor to be carried around.”

“I’ve never been the heroic sort.”

He studied her a moment before giving a nod. “That’s true.” With a suddenness she wasn’t expecting he crouched to grab at the back of her knees and then hefted her over his shoulder.

His name came out as a squeak as he started across the room, and he ignored it as they started down the stairs.

“This isn’t what I meant,” she shouted even as she began to wiggle in an attempt to get down.

He simply clamped his arms tighter around her legs and hips and continued their decent. “You really should learn to be more specific then.”

“I’m going to freeze you to the floor!”

“You aren’t that good with ice.”

She didn’t bother answering, instead using her energy to smack at his back and wiggle more in an attempt to free herself. By the time he reached the second landing they were both breathless from the struggle.

She could hear him laughing as he stopped walking to pull her from his shoulder and into his arms properly, and she waited until he had her settled before lifted a hand to punch him in the chest.

The ineffectual attempt at harm only seemed to make him laugh harder and shift her so he could press his face into her neck.

She had just rolled her eyes and, seeing the humor of it, started to smile when she felt his head shift so that his lips brushed over her ear.

She had started to turn her head towards his when his laugh stumbled to a stop with a, very undignified, snort.

She laughed at the utter ridiculousness of the sound before a memory came to her and she froze.

She put her hands to his chest and used them to lean back and look at him, wariness creeping into her thoughts even as he lifted his head to meet her gaze.

“Did you just snort?”

He gave a nod and moved to set her on her feet, all the while keeping eye contact with her, though his face was carefully blank. “I did.”

“Oh.”

He placed his hands on her elbows and steadied her before speaking again.

“If I recall correctly, I think you said you would have to marry me if I did that. It was a long time ago though, so maybe I’m remembering it wrong.”

She could hear her blood rushing in her ears, and couldn’t seem to make herself reply; instead she just continued to stare at him.

He dropped his hands and she watched as he patted at himself a moment before digging into a pocket and pulling something out. When he turned back to face her she could see that he was holding a simple silver ring in his fingers. “You said it would have to be a marriage like “us Chantry people” do, so you will need a ring.”

When she continued to simply stare at him he shifted uncomfortably. “If-If you want it.”

She was sure she should be saying something, anything, but all her words seemed caught in her throat as she shifted her attention from his face to the ring and back again. This was important, she knew that, and she needed to speak, but when she finally managed to choke something out it sounded far more confused than she meant for it to.

“You… got me a ring?”

“I had Dagna make it. She did something to it that I don’t understand that will help keep you protected while you’re fighting, or so she says. I wanted you to have something you didn’t have to worry about switching out when you were in the field.”

It seemed she had expended the words she was allowed to say because she could only stare at him again, and she could feel her fingers flexing into her palms which seemed far too wet to be normal. He had had Dagna make her a ring that would protect her while she was fighting. He would think of such things, of course he would.

He stared back at her for a few seconds before moving his gaze away, his hand dropping a bit. “This… um… was a really bad idea wasn’t it? I- I wasn’t going to ask you now, but, uh, it just came out, and… I had picked this up earlier today so it was in my pocket… and… and just forget I said anything.”

He started to step away, the ring disappearing into a fist, which apparently was what it finally took for her to snap out of her thoughts.

“Wait!” She grabbed at his hand with both of hers, prying it open with her fingers so that the ring sat revealed between them again. “You- You’re taking it back?”

Confusion was clear on his face when he answered her. “You want it?”

“You said you had it made for me. So that means it’s mine, right?”

His nod was slow, as if he wasn’t really sure it was the correct response. “Yes.”

“So I want it.” She lifted the ring and studied it, finally noticing the etchings in the surface.

They were stylized and flowing, but they definitely formed a profile that was reminiscent of Cullen’s lion helmet with a small amber stone set as its eye.

She felt her cheeks flush at the implication that she would be wearing something that was so very clearly marked for him and kept her head down as she spoke again. “It’s beautiful.”

“Just… just so I-um… uh… Are you just wanting the ring or-“ She could hear the uncertainty laced through his words even as he trailed off, and forced herself to look up at him.

She still knew that there was a lot she should say, but she had never been good at the feelings part of their relationship. She also knew that there was a vast difference between sleeping with someone, even telling them you love them, and agreeing to spend the rest of your life with them.

Especially when you were an elf and a human, or a mage and an ex-templar.

“You want to marry a Dalish elven mage?” She made a point to add everything that made her different from him, her fingers curling around the ring in her hand, half afraid he would decide to take it back after all.

His face cleared at her question and his hand came up to play at the short tips of her hair. “I want to marry you. I’d want to marry you even if you were a seven foot tall qunari who was a stout follower of the Qun.”

She couldn’t help the laugh that came out at that, even as she looked away again. “I’m serious. There’s no guarantee that I will always be the Inquisitor, and when I’m not anymore you are going to be married to an elven mage. It won’t be easy, not everyone is as race blind as you apparently are, and if things for mages don’t change people will never stop fearing us. I’m used to people treating me that way, I can ignore it, but you would have it wor-“

She felt his hands come up to her jaw and his lips cut off her words. She relaxed as she felt his mouth smiling against hers before he pulled away again. “I don’t care. I want to marry you, I have for a long time but I promised myself I wouldn’t even consider asking until Corypheus was dealt with. I want to spend my life with you, whether it’s here or me chasing after you in the woods because you decide to rejoin your clan. And I desperately want to be able to tell any more nobles who ask if I’m married that I am, and they are more than welcome to take it up with my wife.”

He had always been better at this part, and it was easy to return his smile as he finished talking because he always knew exactly what to say when he stopped fumbling over his anxieties.

“I’m not saying we have to get married today, I just… I just wanted to ask, we can figure out the rest as we go.”

“Seems like the story of our entire relationship.”

“Well, it’s worked for us so far.”

He leaned in to kiss her again, his hands moving to hers where they took the ring from her grasp and pushed it onto her finger.

“So, you never really answered. Will you be my wife, eventually?”

She followed his lips to share another kiss before she looked down at the gleaming metal and stone on her hand. “Yes, but I have a feeling it will be sooner rather than later when the others hear about this.”

“You’re probably right.”

She tilted herself into his chest, her hands going around to grip at the back of his coat. “You do realize you aren’t going to get me out of this room now until I take you upstairs and strip this very nice outfit off of you so I can have my way with you, right?”

His breath was a warm ruffle through her hair as he laughed and smoothed his hands over her arms. “I’ll be sure to apologize to Josephine personally. I think she will forgive us being late under the circumstances.”

She tilted her head back to smile at him before stepping away and taking his hand, drawing him back up the stairs. “I’ll just let her know that she can decorate for any ceremony we have. That should placate her.”

“You’re a shrewd observer, Inquisitor. I’m lucky to have found you.”

They reached the main room again and she gave him a playful shove towards the bed, climbing over him when he settled back onto it. “You’re about to get a lot luckier.”

“Oh. Good.”


	3. Snort Redux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snort told from Cullen's point of view

He patted his pocket in a nervous gesture as he made his way up the stairs, checking that the small band of metal that Dagna had just given him was still tucked safely away.

After a few more steps he repeated the action.

He made himself drop his hand. It wasn’t going to go anywhere, not by simply walking across the main hall, and he was going to have the chance to put it away safely when he got to their room, someplace it wouldn’t get lost until he decided to use it.

He still wasn’t sure about that.

He had asked Dagna about making it a few days after Corypheus had been defeated, impatient to have it done, but he had no actual plans to use it until he could come up with the best way to present the idea to her.

Not that he was even sure she was interested in marriage. She had joked about… but that didn’t mean it was something she had seriously thought about doing.

With him.

He lifted a hand to massage at his neck, his thoughts darkening as he rounded the top of the steps into the main room of their quarters, his eyes doing a quick scan for her.

It was amazing how quickly his mind cleared when his gaze settled on the lump in the bed.

Of course she was still asleep. Why would he ever have assumed otherwise?

The ring forgotten in his pocket, he moved towards the bed until he could make out the reddish brown tufts of hair that stuck out from the cocoon she had wrapped herself in. She had moved to his side of the bed, a consistent habit after he left each morning that never failed to make him smile, and was so enmeshed in the blanket around her that it took him a few moments to discern where an end was so he could grab it.

He gave a few tugs until the top half of her head was free and the tattoo lines across her forehead were wrinkled together in sleepy dismay. He thought she might look at him after that but she turned her face into the pillow instead.

He smiled at the attempt to ignore him and gave another few tugs, revealing her chin and the tips of her shoulders.

“Nell.”

Her voice was muffled when she spoke, and obviously annoyed. “Go away.”

“It’s nearly noon.”

“I killed a darkspawn magister, I am allowed to sleep until noon.”

He chuckled at that, since it was the same excuse she had been using for nearly a week, and tugged at the blanket again until her chest was visible. “That was over two weeks ago. Josephine has informed me that have spent enough time holed up, and you have to come and meet with the nobles who have arrived whether you want to or not.”

When she made a few more sounds he continued. “She also told me to tell you that you have to act friendly.”

That seemed to catch her attention and she rolled onto her back with a groan, her eyes squinting open to look at him as her fingers wrapped around the blanket to try and pull it back up.

He simply raised a brow at her when she pursed her lips and waited until she added, “I’m always friendly”.

His eyes widened at the statement before he burst out a laugh. He might believe that if he hadn’t once heard her tell a Comte that he was a vile piece of filth with his own ears.

“Go ahead, pull the other one.”

She had started to smile when he laughed and she scrubbed a hand over her chin as it widened. “Well, I’m not mean.”

They both continued to smile for a few seconds before she gave an exaggerated sigh and shoved the blankets off of her. He watched as she tumbled herself out of the bed, her hands reaching up to scrub through her hair. “Fine. Fine.”

She staggered past him and into the changing room, mumbling something about him having to go with her, while he made a halfhearted attempt to right the covers on the bed so that they at least somewhat resembled being made up.

By the time he made his way to the door of the room she had already scrubbed water over her face and through her hair and was sliding into her under armor.

He wasn’t surprised she wanted to dress in her battle robes to meet with the nobles. She liked to think it made her look more intimidating.

It usually didn’t, but who was he to ruin the illusion?

“I have work I need to do with the troops that are about to head out.”

She frowned as her hands worked together the buttons of her top, annoyance flashing in the dark purple of her eyes. “I wasn’t aware of any troop movement.”

“Because you’ve been holed up for the past two weeks.”

She made a face even as she moved towards him, her hands coming up to brace against his arms so that she could push up and kiss his chin. “Don’t act like you weren’t holed up here with me most of the time.”

Oh no, he definitely remembered, and had enjoyed every relaxed moment of it. It had been something new for them both, not having set in stone time constraints.

He slid his arms around her waist, intent on telling her as much, when she abruptly pulled back a look of confusion on her face.

“What are you wearing?

He immediately dropped his hands from where they still rested on her sides and, unsure what else to do, gave a quick tug at the hem of his jacket, his gaze moving to the washstand.

He had really been hoping she would be too tired to notice. He should have known better.

“Clothes, why?”

“You aren’t wearing your armor.”

“I don’t always wear armor.”

He could see the look of blatant skepticism she shot him out of the corner of his eye as she replied. “Yes you do.”

He found himself rubbing at his neck again, unable to help the nervous habit, even as he looked back to her with a frown. “I was informed that now that Corypheus has been defeated I have to look less… formidable when dealing with our guests. Apparently it gives a bad impression to look serious and be wearing armor all the time.”

By the time he finished speaking she looked far too much like a cat that had gotten into the cream, and when she replied he could hear the tremor of humor in her voice. “Josephine is making you dress up for the nobles?” When he simply continued to frown, her laugh slipped out and she moved back to him, her hands smoothing up and over his back. “If it helps, I like the idea of easier access to you.”

He couldn’t help the smile that followed the almost immediate idea that he couldn’t fault ease of access either. “Is that so?”

She made some sound in her throat and rose to her toes to kiss him.

He wanted to deepen it, wanted to forget their duties and simply enjoy her, but both of them had work to do so he gave a mental groan and pulled away from her. “You aren’t going to distract me.”

Her groan was far more vocal and she spun away from him and out the door with an over done swoon. He followed her, amused, as she landed back on the bed, her legs dangling off the side, and came to stand between them. “There are only five of them, if that helps.”

She waved her arms above her before flinging them out to her sides. “Don’t tell me that. I can easily set five people on fire. Tell me there’s fifty and the only way I can get to lunch is by stroking each of their egos.”

He smiled at the idea, watching as she closed her eyes again. Seeing nothing else for it, and knowing this game well, he reached forward and hauled her to a sitting position by her hands. When she was upright again, he left to retrieve her outer robe and brought it back to place around her. When she had slid her arms into it he took her hands again, pulling her up to stand in front of him.

Since her eyes were still closed, he took a moment to study her, his fingers flexing around hers as he did so. She had an amused quirk to her lips, and her head was tilted back as if she expected him to kiss her. When he didn’t she opened her eyes again and spoke. “If I stand here long enough will you carry me down?”

“No. It would hardly look heroic for the Inquisitor to be carried around,” he replied, humor lacing his voice.

She rolled her eyes at the answer and leaned a bit more into him. “I’ve never been the heroic sort.”

He couldn’t argue that. “That’s true,” he stated instead, an idea forming in his mind that would both amuse him and get her to where she needed to be. So when she started to smile at his words, he dipped down and grabbed her around her knees, lifting until she fell unceremoniously over his shoulder and clamping his arms around her hips and legs.

He started out of the room, ignoring the yelp of protest she gave. When she started wiggling he simply tightened his grip.

“This isn’t what I meant!”

“You really should learn to be more specific then.”

“I’m going to freeze you to the floor.”

It was an empty threat and they both knew it, she had always excelled at fire magic, but her ability to ice was limited to freezing water or creating half solid lumps.

“You aren’t that good with ice.”

She didn’t seem interested in arguing that, probably because she knew he was right, but she did start slapping at his back and wiggling her hips enough to hit him solidly in the side of the head a few times.

He had to focus to keep ahold of her, amusing spiraling through him at the picture they probably made. He couldn’t help the laugh that came out any more then he could help laughing harder when he came to a stop and dropped her into his arms and she punched him.

The angle was off for any solid weight behind it, and she had never been the most physically strong person.

He buried his face in her neck, muffling the sounds of his laughter against her skin.

He didn’t know what it was about the whole situation, but he suddenly didn’t want to wait for the right time to give her the ring he still carried, didn’t want to wait to set up some orchestrated moment where everything had to be perfect, because it probably wouldn’t be. They never managed to get perfect down right.

A moment came to him, one of the many he had stored in his memory since he had met her.

“If you ever snort when you laugh I’ll have to marry you.”

He didn’t let himself think about it. He over thought too much, especially when it came to her. Instead, he tilted his face so that his lips ghosted over her ear and made a point to end his laugh on the most obvious snort he could think of.

It made him feel slightly ridiculous, but if it worked it would well be worth it.

He knew the moment she remembered her own words because she froze against him before slowly pushing herself back so she could look at his face, her expression somewhere between wariness and confusion.

“Did you just snort?”

He thought it would probably be better if they were both standing, and gave a nod as he set her feet on the ground, his hands coming up to steady her when she wobbled slightly. “I did.”

“Oh.”

“If I recall correctly, I think you said you would have to marry me if I did that. It was a long time ago though, so maybe I’m remembering it wrong.”

He kept his face blank, unsure how to take her look of uncertainty, and dropped his hands from her so that he could find the ring, which he suddenly couldn’t remember which pocket he had put it in. He patted at himself until he found it then drew it out. “You said it would have to be a marriage like ‘us Chantry people’ do, so you will need a ring.”

He held the ring out to her, and watched as her mouth dropped open a bit and her eyes widened. She didn’t try to take it though, simply continued to stare at him in silence. It made worry trickle down his spine and he shifted against the feel of it. “If-If you want it.”

She stared at him another moment before words came rushing out, sounding choked and not a little terrified. “You… got me a ring?”

“I had Dagna make it. She did something to it that I don’t understand that will help keep you protected while you’re fighting, or so she says. I wanted you to have something you didn’t have to worry about switching out when you were in the field.” He forced his voice to remain steady as he replied to her, despite feeling sweat pool uncomfortably around his collar.

She went back to staring between him and the ring respectively, and he wanted to punch himself. This had been a terrible idea. He should have known better. She was Dalish, of course she wouldn’t want to marry under some Chantry law. Not to mention she was the Inquisitor and he was her Commander and even with Corypheus defeated they both had more important things to worry about.

And why would she want to tie herself to him when he still had so many things he was trying to work through? The thought tugged at the back of his mind and he couldn’t banish it. Marriage was just another tie, and she had already given him enough, she needed to be able to keep an out that didn’t involve the complications of marriage and he couldn’t blame her for that.

He should have known better.

Now he just hoped he could fix it without losing her completely.

He looked away and dropped his hand lower, his thoughts whirling in a dark cloud. “This… um… was a really bad idea wasn’t it? I- I wasn’t going to ask you now, but, uh, it just came out, and… I had picked this up earlier today so it was in my pocket… and… and just forget I said anything.”

He started to turn away, folding the ring into his hand so neither of them had to look at it, when she grabbed at him.

“Wait!” She pried his hand open so that the ring was revealed again. “You- You’re taking it back?”

There was a panicked edge to her voice, and her grip on his hand was almost painful even as she stared up at him wide eyed.

Wait… what?

“You want it?”

Her fingers managed to tighten even more somehow, and her voice had risen and her words were tight when she spoke again. “You said you had it made for me. So that means it’s mine, right?”

She… she wanted it? Still unsure of himself he nodded slowly. “Yes.”

“So I want it.” She practically snatched the ring from his palm then turned it over and over in her fingers for a few moments. He worried that she wouldn’t like the detail on it, or the fact that it was a lion. He wasn’t even sure if he liked it. Harritt had done the design and all he had been able to get him to say about it was “Seemed appropriate” before he had grumbled at him and Dagna both and moved off.

Dagna had giggled and agreed leaving him blushing and fidgety and quick to take his leave.

“It’s beautiful.”

Her words drew him back and he felt his brows lower because he still wasn’t sure what to make of what she was saying. “Just… just so I-um…uh…” He took a breath, annoyed that he was having such a hard time getting the words out. It was too important though, and he was too afraid of the answer. “Are you just wanting the ring or-“ He trailed off again, giving up when she looked up from the ring to him. She still looked terrified; he wondered if she knew that.

“You want to marry a Dalish elven mage?” Her voice had gone quiet with the words, and he watched as she curled her fingers around the ring and pulled it closer to her body as if she was afraid he was going to take it from her.

The gesture steadied him, and he lifted a cautious hand to play at the tips of her hair in an attempt to settle her. “I want to marry you. I’d want to marry you even if you were a seven foot tall qunari who was a stout follower of the Qun.”

She leaned towards his hand and laughed, even as her gaze moved away. After a few seconds her features clouded again and he watched as her brow furrowed. “I’m serious. There’s no guarantee that I will always be the Inquisitor, and when I’m not anymore you are going to be married to an elven mage. It won’t be easy, not everyone is as race blind as you apparently are, and if things for mages don’t change people will never stop fearing us. I’m used to people treating me that way, I can ignore it, but you would have it wor-“

He moved his hands to her jaw, thumbs reaching up to brush over the tips of her vallaslin as she spoke, her words tumbling faster as her shoulders hunched tightly. He didn’t want her to ever think such things. It didn’t matter to him what anyone else might say, it would be their loss not his. How could she think that what anyone else thought would ever be more important to him then her?

He used his lips to cut off the words of worry. Maybe it did make sense, she had dealt with it all her life, and who was he to tell her that she was being foolish. It didn’t change anything however, and the thought calmed his mind. He hadn’t doubted his feelings for her in a very long time, and her uncertainty with such things always seemed to steady him more.

He smiled against her mouth before pulling away. “I don’t care. I want to marry you, I have for a long time but I promised myself I wouldn’t even consider asking until Corypheus was dealt with. I want to spend my life with you, whether it’s here or me chasing after you in the woods because you decide to rejoin your clan. And I desperately want to be able to tell any more nobles who ask if I’m married that I am, and they are more than welcome to take it up with my wife.”

His thumbs brushed her cheeks again when she returned his smile, relief obvious in the way her whole body seemed to relax. “I’m not saying we have to get married today, I just… I just wanted to ask, we can figure out the rest as we go.”

“Seems like the story of our entire relationship.”

It did, and that observation made him smile more. “Well, it’s worked for us so far.” He leaned in to kiss her again even as he reached down to her still clenched hand. He worked the ring out of it and then slid it over the knuckles of her finger until it rested at the base. “So, you never really answered. Will you be my wife, eventually?”

It was her turn to kiss him this time, which she did before looking down at where the ring rested on her hand. “Yes, but I have a feeling it will be sooner rather than later when the others hear about this.”

He wanted to shout. He wanted to scoop her up and spin her around until they were both dizzy, but she was still her, and he was still him, and so instead he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and drew in an amused breath. “You’re probably right.”

She pressed herself into his chest a moment, her hands gripping at his back while he buried his nose in her hair, feeling more thankful than he had in his entire life. Every hard moment when he wasn’t sure he was strong enough to continue, every remembered bad memory of his past, if it lead to this, to her, he could endure it.

She was blunt, and annoying, and she poked and prodded, and she slept more than any normal person should, and she was the leader of the Inquisition so would never belong completely to herself. But she smelled like a campfire in the snow, and rubbed his temples when he had a headache, and made him laugh.

He was very sure he was the luckiest man in Thedas.

“You do realize you aren’t going to get me out of this room now until I take you upstairs and strip this very nice outfit off of you so I can have my way with you, right?”

Her words beat against his chest and had him laughing. He no longer cared about keeping up appearances, or being on time. He wanted to ride out this moment, this feeling, for as long as he could. “I’ll be sure to apologize to Josephine personally. I think she will forgive us being late under the circumstances.”

She tilted her head back to smile at him before stepping away and taking his hand, drawing him back up the stairs. “I’ll just let her know that she can decorate for any ceremony we have. That should placate her.”

“You’re a shrewd observer, Inquisitor. I’m lucky to have found you.”

They reached the main room again and she gave him a playful shove towards the bed, climbing over him when he settled back onto it. “You’re about to get a lot luckier.”

He let his hands slide over her thighs, lifting his head just enough to smooth his lips over the armor padded slope of her shoulder.

“Oh. Good.”


	4. Enough

When the Inquisition party returned to Skyhold from the Frostback Basin, it was leaderless.

It took a moment to realize it, but it was soon evident that the usual elf that rode at the front of the line - the one that was so quick to dismount and try to find a way to sneak past her advisors and their work questions, was not actually in the front, or with the party at all for that matter.

Cullen frowned at Leliana, who simply sent him a shrug that stated she had no idea either, before walking to where Dorian was sliding off his mount.

“Where’s Nell?”

The mage paused, fingers coming up to pass over his mustache, before he turned his attention to a buckle on his horse’s saddle.  “You know, that is a funny story.”

Cullen felt his brows lower, usually when Dorian said something was a funny story, it wasn’t.

“Is it?”

“Yes, I have no idea where she is.”

His shoulders immediately tensed and he felt his mouth open a close a few times before he managed to grind out, “What?”

How could they not know where she was?  How could Nell leave without telling anyone where she was going?  Why did Dorian not seem more concerned.  They should call an alarm, send out  a party.

Something.

Dorian’s hands came up in an effort to forestall Cullen from saying anything else.  “That’s not really true,” he stated, voice carefully calm.  “I mean, I know she’s on her way back here… She just wanted to… walk.”

“Walk?” He paced away from Dorian, his hand grasping first at his sword hilt before falling uselessly away before pacing back as Cassandra came up to join them.  “You all let her walk, alone, back from the Basin camp?”

He heard Cassandra let out a snort and shot his gaze to her, visions of grasping the front of her tunic and screaming at her that none of this was funny dancing through his mind.

“Commander, since when have we ever ‘let’ the inquisitor do anything?  She told us what she was doing and didn’t give us any chance to argue.”

It was definitely something she would do.  He could picture it perfectly in his mind, but he would have argued.  He would have thrown her bodily onto a horse before he let her traipse off into the woods by herself.

Which wasn’t true of course, since she would simply climb back off the horse and walk off anyway, after setting him on fire, but he would have at least stayed close by, or gone with her.

“Well, why did she need to walk alone?”

Dorian and Cassandra seemed to blanch at the question and Dorian made some half-formed reply before simply walking away.  A tactic he had obviously learned from Nell.

Cassandra looked as if she wanted to follow, but Cullen held out an arm, stopping her.  “Cassandra, what happened?”

He didn’t think anyone could perfect the look of not wanting to respond as well as Nell had, but Cassandra was definitely giving it her best effort.

“Just tell me.” 

He had never missed Nell’s straightforwardness as much as he did in this moment, and that thought sent a wave of fear through him.  What if he never got to experience it again?

One person, even a mage, alone on a weeks long journey through the wilds of the Frostbacks… Anything could happen to her.

Why did no one else seem to understand that?

“Did you read the reports we sent back about what happened down there, with the first inquisitor?”  She didn’t give him a chance to reply before she moved her hand from the sword to the horse they were still standing beside.  “It seemed to… bother her quite a bit.”

He stood there a moment before giving a nod and stepping past her to lift himself onto the still-saddled horse.

Cassandra grabbed at the reins, stopping him when he would have turned the horse back to the gate.  “Where are you going?”

“To find her.”

He was surprised she even needed to ask.

“You can’t be serious.  She could still be days away.  What are we supposed to do with both our inquisitor and commander gone off in the wilds somewhere?”

Cullen shook his head and tugged at the reins until Cassandra dropped her hand.  “You and the others are more than capable of handling things for a little while.”

“Cullen -“

“Cassandra,” Cullen said, cutting her off, impatience and worry making his voice tense.  “You just told me that my fiancée is upset and alone out in the wilds somewhere.  If you think I’m not going to go look for her…”  He trailed off and shook his head again.  “If you think I’m not going to go look for her you haven’t been paying attention.”

She didn’t say anything else as he started through the main gates and out of the courtyard.

* * *

It took nearly two days.  By the time he found her on the second day the sun had fallen low enough behind the mountains that by the time he saw flickering light of a fire off to the side of the trail, the stars were beginning to peek out.

He could just make out the shape of Nell in the dimming light.  She was perched on a rocky outcrop with a bundle of blankets settled over her, a spot of darkness against the nearly glowing snow around her.

Cullen stopped his horse next to hers before sliding out of the saddle.  He gave a curious glance to the dying fire before turning his attention back to the woman who sat just outside its light.

She seemed unapproachable, alone, isolated in the sea of white, and he couldn’t quite bring himself to break the silence that had settled, especially when she made no move to look back at him.  So he simply came to a stop behind her rock.

After several more minutes of nothing she finally shifted, an arm emerging from her cocoon to stretch out and point up towards a cluster of stars that had appeared near the peak of a mountain top.

“Those are called  _Ashaen_.  The story is that Elgar’nan fell in love with Iowyn, an elven woman, and her six daughters.  He pursued them for years trying to win their affection, but had little luck with it.”  Nell’s voice was quiet, rusty from days of disuse, and Cullen had to step closer to hear her over the rustle of the wind.

“Finally, Mythal took pity on the women and turned them all into birds so that they might be able to escape the unwanted attention.  They flew into the sky to get away and once they were up there they turned into stars because even a god cannot hope to grasp a star.  And they remain up there still, a reminder of both the gods’ selfishness and their love.”

Cullen wasn’t sure if she wanted him to reply to that, wasn’t sure what his response should be to a story that even he knew was intended to distract him from asking if she was alright.  Instead he stared at the stars for another moment before asking something else entirely.  “Why are there only six stars if there were seven women?”

He could sense her smile, the fleetingness and pleasure of it, before she replied.  “One of the sisters, Adana, was married to a human man, a mortal, and when Mythal came to help her and the others she was ashamed that the All-Mother would see that a weak heart and a pretty face had turned her away from her people, so she abandoned her sisters and her mother and simply disappeared.”

He looked back down so he could study the back of her head, her hair shifting slightly in the wind.  “It’s sad.  The story I mean.”

Nell gave a single nod, her arm retreating into the warmth of her blankets.  “Yes, most of the best stories are.  I’ve always loved it, though.  To be a bird who could simply fly away, to become something as lovely and carefree as a star.  Do you know what Tirnel means?”

The abrupt question threw him and he had to take a moment before giving an answer.  “No.”

“It means ‘stargazer.’  My mother told me once that on the night I was born I wouldn’t stop crying so my father took me outside.  Apparently I quieted down immediately and spent the entire night wide-eyed, simply staring at the sky.  They wanted my name to reflect that.“

She fell silent again as she shifted her position.  Cullen saw the glow of a glyph beneath her as the blankets moved, and realized she was heating her small enclosure with her magic.

When she offered no further information, he took another step closer.  "What happened with the inquisitor?”

“Didn’t you read the reports?”

“I did, but I figured there was more.”

“More.”  She laughed the word out, the sound tight as if it was straining from her throat.  "Yes, I guess there is more.“

"Tell me.”

Nell glanced over her shoulder at him but he couldn’t read her expression in the darkness.  "You know, I knew you’d come looking for me.  It’s why I stayed close to the road; I wanted to make it easier on you.”

Cullen looked down for a moment and watched his feet roll back and forth, crunching the snow beneath him.  “You’ve never been one to dance around a subject before,” he started, and then couldn’t help reaching up to rub at his neck as he continued.  “I wasn’t expecting it now.  Tell me what’s wrong.”

She let out a sigh, then pushed back the blankets so she could stand and pace away from the rock, and further away from him.  “Inquisitor Ameridan was an elf.”

“I know.”

“No!  No you don’t know,” she shot the reply out, anger suddenly streaking through her words, and turned to pace back again.  “You don’t know.  You can’t know, Cullen.  When you die, when the Inquisition is nothing more than a chapter in a forgotten book in some Chantry library, do you know what they are going to say about you?”

He lifted his hands, unsure of what she wanted and she turned in a tight circle of frustration before shooting out her own hand in his direction.  “They are going to say that your name was Cullen Stanton Rutherford, and you were the commanding officer of the greatest army in Thedas, and you were human.  They might get every other fact about your life wrong, but I can almost guarantee that part will be right.  Do you know why?”

He lifted his hands again, and she paused to swipe her palms over her face, her voice turning tight.  “Because you’re the right kind of person, the dashing human general who overcame adversity to lead his armies to glorious victory for the inquisitor.”

“I don’t-“

“And who will I be, Cullen,” she asked, interrupting him.  “When those books get written and rewritten, and everyone who knows the truth is nothing more than dust in the ground, who will I be?”

Cullen cleared his throat and shifted his feet again.  “You’ll be you.”

His didn’t even manage to sound convincing to himself, and by the way Nell’s shoulders slumped and she folded herself back onto the rock, resigned, he knew she wasn’t either.

“I’ll be whoever they decide I should be.  Whoever is least problematic and fits whatever mold they feel I need to fit in.  Just like they did with him.”

He watched as she made a restless movement and pulled the blankets back over herself.  She was angry and upset.  He supposed it was to be expected.  The reports had spelled it out after all.  They had gone on this mission expecting to find out what had become of a non-mage human and had come back with not only a mage, but also an elf.  Ameridan hadn’t been a seeker as they had assumed, he had been something altogether different.

He had been against the Rite of Tranquility, he had wanted peace between humans and elves, and he had walked away from his lover and his friends, and sacrificed himself in order to protect everything.

And none of that was in the books that had been written about him.

Instead they had opted to make him more in line with who the Chantry, and specifically Orlais would like to have as a hero. 

As Cullen studied Nell, he could just pick out the movement of the blanket where her nails tapped against the rock beneath her, and he wondered if she was going to get up again, even though she was doing her best to keep still.

Nell shifted so that she could look back at him again.  “He told me that he took the job not because he wanted to, but because it was his duty and that he had hoped it would ease tensions between the humans and elves, and he was sure I could relate, and I can and I hate it because it made me realize something.”

She stopped and curled more into herself.  “It made me realize I can simply accept it and let them do with me, with my connection to my people, what they will, or I can make it as hard for them as possible.”

Cullen nodded behind her even though she couldn’t see the movement, and reached up to run a hand through his hair.  He could understand what she was saying, could understand the anger that seemed to radiate from her, but he couldn’t even begin to understand exactly what she was feeling.

“Why does it even matter?  You’re constantly annoyed about being the inquisitor anyway.  Do you really care if people remember you?”

The ends of her hair scraped over the back of her collar as she shook her head and he had the vague thought that it had grown out since he had last seen her.

This wasn’t how he had seen their reunion going.

“That’s the problem,” she replied, anger once again twining through her words.  “I don’t care, or I shouldn’t, but it’s not about me.  It’s about the fact that I’m an elf and a mage, and both of those things have been brought down by the same people we are trying to help.

“A mage, Cullen, an elven mage helped set up everything that gives them power and they erased it.  And now… and now they teach that mages need to be contained, and elves aren’t good enough to be treated the same as the other races.  Did you know that they are trying to pass a law in Orlais that will make sleeping with an elf akin to bestiality?  Congratulations, Commander, your lover is an animal.”

He did know that, of course he did, they had talked about it at length after she had first learned about it.  But this wasn’t really the time to point that out.

“You know I don’t think that.”

“But others do,” she bit out, her words hard to hear as the wind picked up.  “Too many others.  Those are the same people who will be all too happy to make up new facts that hide who I actually am.”

“So what do you want to do?”

Cullen watched Nell’s shoulders lift and fall with his question and she shook her head again.

“I don’t think I can marry you.”

“What?”  The question was automatic, and he found himself stepping closer to her rock as he shook his own head and his fingers made some random twitch towards her back.  “Sorry… what?  Why?”

He couldn’t have heard her right.  He couldn’t be seeing everything they had built together slipping away with a mere handful of words.

She looked back at him and the blanket moved around her as she made a movement with her arms.  “Who will be easier to change, Tirnel Lavellan or Nell Rutherford?”

“You’re name is what you’re worried about?”

“It’s more what it represents.  At best, if I marry you I will be changed into the lovely inquisitor who married her dashing commander and my race won’t even matter, which of course means it could be easily changed, and at worst it will be that I wanted to distance myself so far from my people that I married a human and embraced human things and had his human looking children, so elves could be easily vilified.”

He frowned at her back before speaking again.  “None of that is true.”

Nell’s laughter rang out around them, but there was no humor in it.  “Do you really think they care about the truth as long as they get the story that they want?”

No, of course he didn’t.

“So you can’t marry me.”  It ached to say it.

She didn’t reply right away.  Instead she turned her face to stare back out over the expanse of snow that surrounded them.

“Like I said before, I have a choice in how people might remember me.  And my best chance at making sure that they get it right is to be me.  Just me.  With no human husband that they can latch onto.”

When she didn’t look at him again he forced himself to ask his next questions.  “And a human lover?  Would that be different?”

He heard her laugh, a ragged, pitiful sound that was soon muffled by her hands.

It made him not want an answer.

“I love you.”

She had only said it out loud a handful of times, each moment remembered because it was so rare.  He had heard the words leave her in a hushed whisper, and a roaring anger, but he had never heard them like this.

Stuttered.

Broken.

As if they hurt.

And then she started to cry.

He wouldn’t have known it to hear her; she kept the sound swallowed up in her hands and in the wind that blew away from him.  But he could see it in the way her shoulders began to shake, the movement little more than a shiver in the cold.

She had never cried before.

At least not that he knew about.

Cullen moved beside her, not sitting, not reaching out, merely putting himself into her periphery should she look for him.  From the new angle he could see the tears leaking out from under her palms, and the way her fingers curled into her eyes as if she could hold back the moisture through sheer force alone.

It made his hands itch to touch her.  To wrap his arms around her and hold on until every hurt he could see in the lines of her body melted away, forgotten.

But he didn’t.

Because he knew she wouldn’t appreciate the gesture.

She didn’t  _like_  comfort. Not when it was given unasked for.

So he would wait until she reached out for him herself.

If she did.

“I love you too.”  He couldn’t help saying the words back to her, felt like he needed to, though she only hunched her shoulders tighter in reply.

It seemed like a long time before he saw Nell’s shoulders relax, giving way to exhaustion.  She blew hard against her hands before dropping them, her still-wet eyes blinking a few times against the sting of the cold before they turned towards him.

She seemed to be waiting for something, so Cullen moved to sit next to her, making sure to keep the distance between them wide enough that their arms wouldn’t brush.

“Why were you crying?”  He pushed the question out through reluctant lips and forced himself to watch her as she gripped her hands in her lap.

“Because I’m angry.  Because it’s not fair.  Because me loving you shouldn’t be this complicated.”

Her words were sharp, as if she was spitting them out in disgust.

“And because asking you to stay beside me after everything I’ve said wouldn’t be fair.”

“To me?”

“To either of us.”

A few years ago Cullen would have simply walked away.  He wouldn’t have fought that logic because he was still confused himself.  But this wasn’t a few years ago and he wasn’t that person anymore, and he had been with Nell long enough to know when she was trying to make up excuses to herself.

So instead of nodding and telling her she was probably right, he stared down at his lap and gave a single shake of his head.  "That’s bullshit.“

He could practically feel her gaze shoot over to him, her eyes large at the statement.

"What?”

“It’s bullshit, Nell.”  He emphasized the words with a smack of his gloved hands onto his thighs, the sound of it cracking around them.  “Nothing but justifying bullshit.” 

“What are you seeing as fair in your mind?” he nearly barked out.  “Me with a wife and children while you martyr yourself for your people?”  He gave a harsh laugh and looked over to her.  "Because that’s what you’ve decided isn’t it?“

He watched her lips tighten even as she avoided his gaze, her head turning back to the snow.

It was answer enough. 

"Yes that scenario would make everyone happy.  You could be alone, the shining beacon of elven hope while I’m married to a woman who I don’t love and am forced to know that the woman I want is just outside my reach.”

“Cullen -”

“No.  I thought you knew me better than that.  I told you I wanted those things, but the idea is that they would be with you.  Those aren’t wants that can be filled by just anyone.  I don’t want them if you aren’t involved.  They aren’t worth not being with you.”

Nell sniffed and reached up to scrub her hands over her face and then through her hair, causing it to stick up in haphazard peaks.  "It’s too much to ask.“ 

He remembered saying the same thing to her when they had first started this, back when she had still made him nervous and being with her had seemed like a reality that was as far away as the stars and just a likely for him to reach.

"If you are looking for a way out, just say so.  But don’t hide it behind excuses about how it’s easier or more fair because nothing about our relationship has ever been easy or fair.  You are stubborn, and lazy, and prickly, and you argue about nearly everything, and according to conversations we’ve had I’m high handed, and small-minded, and I push myself too much.  We argue about the stupidest things, and we hardly ever get time alone, and being the inquisitor and commander mean we are apart more often than we are together.  But none of that matters.  Because you are also brilliant, and beautiful, and kind, and you make me a better person, and I feel more alive when I’m with you than I have ever felt in my entire life.”

Cullen blew out a breath, trying to collect his swirling thoughts, and when Nell made no attempt to say anything, he continued.

“So if being with you means we can’t get married, and can’t be as open about our relationship, and I start calling you Tirnel, that’s fine.  If we need to teach every single member of the Inquisition everything we know about Elven history and how to speak your language, we will.  If we have to move aravels into the courtyards and put the Elven gods into the stained glass windows, then we will.  I don’t want anyone to get who you are wrong, and I don’t want them to use it against your people.  I would never want that.  I just want you…. however I can have you, and I’ll do whatever I need to to keep you.”

She still didn’t reply, and he felt his stomach tighten when she looked away.  Before he could stop himself more words began to tumble out, one single thought coming to the forefront of his mind.  One he wasn’t sure he would be able to handle if it ever did come to pass.  “But if this is your way of getting out that’s fine.  I won’t try to stop you.  I’m not going to force you to be with me, but if this plan of your involves another man, an elf, and children… I can’t stay.  I can’t, Nell… I can’t watch you with someone else, and I’ll be happy to start training a replacement.”

He felt anything else he might say drain from him, and he let the silence settle back over them as he looked up to the stars she had pointed out earlier, the cluster of them bright in the black sky.  He had said his piece, and laid his cards on the table.  It was up to her to decide what to do with them now.

“That was quite the speech,” Nell finally commented, her voice empty of its resignation and anger and carefully blank.  “You think I’m prickly?”

“You know you’re,” he began, his head turning as he spoke only to be cut off by the feeling of roughened hands bracketing his cheeks and a cold mouth pressing to his.  He blinked, confused, and reached up himself, but she was already pulling away, her hands dropping from his face to slide down the armor of his arms and into her lap.

“I don’t want to lose you, Cullen,” she stated into his shocked silence.  “And I don’t want anyone else, no matter what happens between us.  I need you to know that.” 

He gave a jerky nod and stopped himself from pulling her back to him, to simply kiss her and forget this entire conversation.  Instead, he watched as Nell shifted around so she could sit facing him.

“I just didn’t want you to have to settle for something less than you wanted when I know now that I can’t give it to you, because helping the future of my people is too important.”

The words spurred his own, and his hands did reach out for hers when he had the urge this time, their fingers twining in a loose knot.  “Being with you is never going to be settling, or less than what I want.  Don’t ever think that.”

She nodded and looked down to where their hands connected.  “So what now?  I’m too tired to try to decide myself.”

“Now we make changes, and take things slow.  We’ll figure it out, together.”

“Do you want your ring back?”

“No, it’s yours, unless you don’t want it.  Do you want yours back?”

“No.”

They lapsed into silence, both staring at their fingers and letting the night speak alone for awhile.

Finally, Nell spoke, her words tinged with faint humor, a welcomed change from before.  “Josie is going to kill us.  She’s been planning everything for months.”

Cullen laughed, he couldn’t help it, and lifted her hands to brush his lips over the knuckles.  “She’ll understand.”

Nell nodded and seemed to come to a decision because she crawled out of her blankets and over to him, wrapping them both in the heavy wool before leaning her head against his shoulder.

He felt the clenching that had become nearly constant in his chest and stomach since he had left Skyhold days before finally start to ease away at the contact, and he reached around her so he could pull her more tightly against his chest until he could pretend he felt her through his armor.

Maybe if he held on tight enough he would never have to worry about her slipping away from him.

“Can we wait a little while before going back?”  She sounded exhausted and strangely unsure.  He doubted this had gone how she had planned and prepared for.  

She had probably expected him to leave after she had said she could marry him.  Which showed how strongly all this had affected her.  She would normally know that wasn’t going to happen.

Not now.

Not after everything they had been through. 

He imagined it was going to take them a long while to figure out exactly where they stood now, and what it meant, and what changes needed to be made.

But it seemed like they were going to work on it together, that was something at least.


	5. Required Reading

The lower levels of the keep were quiet save for the hushed murmuring he could hear coming from the open door to the kitchen.

He supposed they had already started on the noon meal since he had seen the spread of food in the dining hall, but It was too early for the courtiers that liked to linger at Skyhold to be up, and too late for the workers to still be eating before starting their day. It gave everything an oddly empty feel, even with the beats of occasional laughter.

He skirted past the door, and the cooks on the other side of it, without saying anything, his mind preoccupied with the empty bed he had woken up to that morning.

It was hours too early for Nell to have been awake, let alone dressed and gone, but ever since she had returned from finding Inquisitor Ameridan a week ago sleep seemed to be something that eluded her.

He knew where she was of course, it was the same place she always went when she wanted to be left alone. He could picture her now, perched on top of the pile of rubble that still lingered behind the broken cells at the end of the dungeon, where she would be shielded from the wind but still be able to stare out over the ring of mountains that surrounded them.

Cullen had thought to go check on her before starting his plans for the day, but things were still not completely settled between them. It almost seemed like the floor was unstable beneath them and while she couldn’t seem to be bothered by it, preoccupied as she was with her thoughts, he felt like he was barely managing to stay balanced while he waited for her to turn around and notice that he wasn’t going anywhere.

Maybe she still expected him to decide it wasn’t worth it.

He shook his head at the thought as he knocked on the door just past the kitchens and waited until he heard a muffled response to enter.

Pushing through he nearly tripped over a large wooden crate that sat just inside of the room, his shin hitting painfully against the sharp edge of it, causing him to bite back a curse as he reached down to rub at the injury.

“Careful, Commander. We can’t have you training recruits with a limp.”

The words were smooth, amused, and slightly distracted. Cullen looked up to see that Dorian wasn’t even facing him, instead he was standing by yet another box, his expression far away as he pulled a book out of the container and set about looking for a place to put it.

“More books? Didn’t we get a shipment less than a month ago?”

Dorian hummed out an agreement and reached in for another book. “We did, but these are the ones that our illustrious leader ordered from Orlias herself, as well as some I managed to get Maevaris to send to me. Hence why I am putting them down here.”

Down here meant the small, cramped library that Nell had converted from one of the empty storage rooms. She had wanted a place to keep the books and scrolls that interested her and the Tevinter mage that wouldn’t be bothered by the various scholars and priests that frequented the main library. Especially after a well meaning cleric had thrown out one of the older tevinter scrolls, one that had hinted at uses of elvish magic, after stating that it was blasphemous.

Cullen was still surprised that Nell hadn’t thrown the man out of Skyhold on the spot.

But she hadn’t, instead she had made this place, and both her and Dorian seemed content with the arrangement, especially after Dorian was given free reign to catalogue and stock it any way he wanted to.

Easing the door closed behind him, Cullen made his way around the two boxes until he could stand opposite of Dorian and scan the shelf he was working on. Miraculously, the man had somehow managed to find more space, and Cullen wondered if perhaps he was using some sort of magic to grant more room than there actually was since he could have sworn every shelf was full to bursting the last time he was in here.

He backed up until the back of his legs hit the edge of the low padded bench that Nell had set for herself, happy enough to leave the large desk for Dorian to work on, and lowered himself to it, waiting while another book was sorted away.

“I can practically hear you thinking, Cullen. Are you always so loudly quiet? I don’t think I’ve noticed it before, or maybe today is different.” He spoke into the bookshelf, his words muffled before he half turned to glance back. “Why don’t you go think loudly at Nell? Or are you two not still pretending everything is fine?”

Cullen frowned at Dorian’s back as he turned back to his work, his teeth clenching together a moment to stop himself from immediately replying that everything was fine.

If anyone would know it wasn’t, it would be Dorian.

It wasn’t that things were _bad_ , they were simply uncertain. They had come back to Skyhold after Cullen had found Nell waiting for him in the mountains and explained to a heartbroken Josephine that a marriage wouldn’t be taking place in the coming weeks, then fallen into a strange pattern of things being exactly the same but also completely different.

Uncertainty, he had never been good with it, not since everything that had happened all those years ago, and definitely not since he had stepped away from being a templar and stopped using lyrium. It put him on edge, a tense grip on his throat that made everything seem worse than it probably was.

It was why he had his morning rituals, why he set himself to such a strict daily schedule, and why he couldn’t stand not having a plan.

He didn’t have a plan here, neither of them did. They were still together, but he didn’t think either of them knew exactly what that meant. They still shared a bed, after his offer of moving back to his tower had been met with a silent shake of her head their first night back, still discussed missions that their soldiers were being sent out on, still took most meals together, but they didn’t talk.

Not that Nell had ever been much of a talker in their private time anyway, content as she was to nap or read while he did his own reports, but the silence now wasn’t easy, wasn’t something that fell between them naturally.

She had been just as withdrawn after Mythal’s Temple, and after she realized Solas wasn’t coming back it had taken days for her to seem herself again, but this was different.

This was between them, the one certain thing that either had had in the years since all this had started. Her being confused about it, when she was the one who had always been so sure… he didn’t know how long that might take to settle again.

So Cullen blew out a slow breath and glanced down to where his gloved fingers had settled against the white fabric of the bench. “I don’t know.”

“Tsk,” Dorian clucked and waved a hand before turning to face him fully. “I doubt there is any reason to fret. Nellie wouldn’t abandon her lion forever. She isn’t the type, no matter what she might think otherwise.

Cullen looked back up, his fingers tightening into his palm. “It’s already been a week, she’s never avoided me for this long.”

“She avoided you for nearly a month when she realized she was in love with you.”

So she had, but that was different. “She’s never avoided me this long while she was still in Skyhold,” he amended.

“True.” Dorian played with the end of his mustache a moment before lifting one shoulder in a shrug and going to sit in the chair behind his desk. “I hope you haven’t come here looking for some sort of relationship advice. I’d be no good at giving it, even if I was inclined to try.”

Dorian looked so uncomfortable with the idea that Cullen couldn’t help the soft laugh the broke from him, easing the tension in his shoulders. “No, I was wanting help with a different matter entirely.”

“How can I be of service then, Commander?”

“You have traveled with Nell a great deal, and between her and Solas I figured you would be the best person to ask about getting some sort of brief history of the elves and Inquisitor Ameriden that I can pass along to the soldiers and other inquisition members to read. I’m thinking it is past time that they know more about the inquisitor and her people.”

Dorian raised a brow at the idea, his hands coming up to fold on the desk. “You’re wanting to give required reading? About elves?”

Cullen shouldn’t have felt defensive at the questions, but he felt his shoulders curling in like they had when he was a templar recruit and one of his trainers had asked him to explain himself. He forced himself to straighten his back against it. “It’s past time they learned such things. Their leader is a Dalish elf, and she obviously feels like what that means is being pushed to the side. It’s a matter of respecting her and her beliefs, and how will they be able to if they know nothing of her people?”

There was a pause as he finished speaking, the silence of it stretching out as Dorian lifted a hand before anything else could be said. Offering the commander a smile, he turned in his seat to open a drawer and pulled out what appeared to be a thick journal. The leather on the outside of it was blank, the smooth darkness of it unmarred save for the deep cracks down its spine where it had been open countless times. Dorian motioned Cullen over and opened to a random middle page before holding it out for him to take.

“I think you will be able to find what you are looking for in that.”

Cullen looked down at the book, his gaze skimming over the precise lines of Dorian’s handwriting that he saw there. Flipping through some of the pages, he saw that Dorian had not only written down stories that he was sure Nell had told, he had also noted history that Solas had seen in the fade, and sketched out half crumbled statues and carvings with their meaning translated beneath.

Apparently he had made an entire book out of picked up jumbles of elven culture.

“If you want,” Dorian supplied, “I can put the main points into a more understandable order and you can hire scribes to make copies of it.”

Cullen started to ask him why he had this in the first place, why a mage from Tevinter would even care about things like how to make a Dalish poultice, but the question faded in his mouth as he realized the answer was obvious.

It was knowledge, and knowledge had always been something that Dorian felt needed to be expanded and shared, not to mention the fact that Nell was his friend and he had surely heard her and Solas both mention, on more than one occasion, that their people had lost so much.

So he would record it for her. A place where the things they knew and the things they found could be read and remembered.

Cullen closed the book slowly, careful to not bend any of the pages, and handed it back to Dorian. “That is an excellent idea if you have the time for it.”

“I have nothing but time at the moment. I’ll start on it first thing in the morning.”

Cullen watched as he set the book to the side and stood to go back to his box of books. He started to walk away, to leave the man to his work, but something bit at the back of his mind and he paused before he got to the door.

“It’s not fair is it?” The question had Dorian looking at him, an answering question in his dark eyes as he waited for Cullen to explain what he meant.

The commander glanced around the room, at the endless rows of books that covered everything from the history of Ferelden, to the succession lines of Orlais, to the magic of the Tevinter Imperium. Thousands of years of information about all the known parts of Thedas that Nell had read or planned to read.

“She has spent the better part of three years learning and memorizing everything she could about us, and the cultures we are part of, so that she could help to build the inquisition and I don’t think anyone has once thought to learn about hers. They… we,” he corrected, his chest tight at the admission. “We have never once tried to better understand hers. Not like we should. I suppose I would be angry too.”

Dorian stared at Cullen for what felt like a very long time, his fingers idly dancing over the spine of the book he was holding. “No,” he finally got out, his voice soft with thought. “But it seems like you are well on your way to trying to correct that.”

“I should have realized the importance of it sooner,” Cullen replied, unable to meet his friend’s gaze. Nell needed to work through what she was feeling, yes, but this part at least was on him.

“Maybe then it wouldn’t have felt like a mistake that I am trying to belatedly fix.”

Another long pause as Dorian set the book in his hands into its spot. “You two are going to be alright. Nell knows it too, she wouldn’t have agreed to stay with you if she thought it was pointless.”

Cullen forced a smile, appreciating the truth he knew was in Dorian’s words. Not that that made any of it easier.


	6. No Doubts

“So, do you approve?”

The question pulled Nell from her thoughts and had her glancing back at the door to the house she was standing in the middle of.

“Well, it’s no castle,” she replied, her smile taking away the sting that the words might have otherwise caused. “But then again, I did grow up in an aravel, so this probably works as a nice middle ground.”

Cullen returned her smile as he stepped up beside her, a hand automatically going to her waist so he could pull her towards him and tuck what was left of her lost arm against his side. “So that’s a yes?”

It was strange to feel the warmth of his flesh through their clothing instead of the cold metal that she had grown so used to over the years, and stranger still to see his expression so open, no lines of worry marking it and no distractions of what needed to be done making his gaze distant.

It made him look younger, and she felt her smile widen at how happy he seemed. “It is.”

“Close enough to a town that we can get supplies that we might need, but far enough away that you don’t have to deal with people unless you want to,” he murmured, his fingers making small circles against her side as he spoke the memory of their long ago conversation out loud. “I know we have things that still need done, and that we won’t ever really stop, but…” He trailed off and leaned down to brush his lips over her hair. “I think we could be happy here in the quiet times.”

“Could be,” Nell echoed, laughter cutting through the words. "It’s also possible we will tire of each other’s company within a few weeks with nothing else to distract us.“

She felt him smile against her hair before pulling away, his fingers skimming along her back before dropping as he moved back towards the outer door.

“I need to start bringing the trunks in.”

“I can help if you want.”

He looked over his shoulder at her, his gaze purposefully not moving to her missing arm as he shook his head. "It’s fine, you are better at finding a place for everything anyway.“

“I can handle the bags well enough, and the lighter things. I’m not an invalid, Cullen.”

“I know.”

The placating calm of his answer had her lips twisting into a frown.

It had been over two months since the threat through the mirrors had ended, since Solas had told her his plan, since her arm had been taken, and the only thing that had pulled her through the fevered dreams and sick room that had followed had been the man that was currently staring at her.

Nell harbored no illusions about how important Cullen had been in those dark moments. She had been so tired, so sick from fever and pain, so heartbroken over Solas and what she knew it was going to lead to she had very nearly welcomed the reprieve that death might grant her.

But how could she have left him? How could she die when moments of clarity filtered in and wore his concerned face and carried his whispered prayers to his Maker.

She had been broken and splintered glass, and he had held her together.

But she didn’t need to be held together any longer and she didn’t need him trying to humor her.

“Than let me help.”

After a moment of contemplation he gave a shrug and motioned her ahead of him and towards the wagon that sat in the new spring grass and the dog that was currently sprawled under it.

Nell found a spot near the opened back end and held out her arms with such obvious pleasure that she could see Cullen bite back a grin before solemnly starting to load some of the smaller sacks onto them.

“Are you laughing at me, Commander?”

“Never, Inquisitor, and that is no longer my title.”

“And Inquisitor isn’t mine. Shouldn’t it be the other way around?”

“The laughing? It usually is. So what would you like me to call you since Inquisitor is no longer appropriate?”

She knew the question was meant to distract her from the fact that he had given her only half of what she knew she could carry, but such battles had been on hold since she had healed, and she was pleased enough with him and their situation that she saw no need in starting them again today.

They had the rest of their lives to bicker after all.

The thought gave her pause, and she found herself staring at Cullen as he pulled one of the larger trunks to the ground.

“Lovely elven flower is still an option,” he added before looking back at her and pausing himself at whatever expression he saw there. “What?”

Nell smiled before she answered, waiting while he mirrored her with his own face, though his was decidedly more confused.

“I was just thinking I didn’t want to argue or give you a hard time today.”

“And here I thought my name day wasn’t for another few months,” he replied, laughing as he reached for another trunk. “What’s the occasion?”

“I just realized we have ample time for it later… Cullen, you never questioned it did you. Not once.”

He straightened and glanced to her as he reached out for the last of the large trunks. “What do you mean?”

“About helping me when I was sick. About us staying together after everything was disbanded.”

There was a beat while he straightened again and looked over at her, and Nell could tell by the way his brows lowered that he wasn’t entirely sure where she was going with this.

She wasn’t entirely sure either.

“Did you,” he asked after a moment, his tone lighter than she knew the question was and she simply smiled again.

When it came to their relationship she’d had a great deal of doubts over the years, and they had started at precisely the moment that she had realized he was a great deal more to her than a pretty face that she very much wanted to get naked with.

But this wasn’t about that. Surprisingly, at the moment, she had very few doubts.

So she didn’t answer his question, instead she shifted the bags in her arms into a more comfortable position. “Kiss me.”

Cullen might have been confused, but he had never been the type to refuse such a request, so he stepped closer and leaned down over the bundle between them and press his lips to hers.

It was light, had to be light with the burden between them, but at least he didn’t seem nearly as worried when he pulled away.

“Lama, ara las mir lath. Bellanaris.” The words came easily, and she only half thought about why she was saying them, but they seemed to fit the moment, and if her fingers dug themselves into the heavy material of the bottom sack she did a good job of ignoring it.

“What does that mean?” Cullen reached up and passed his hand over her cheek before settling it on her shoulder. He might not have understood the words, but he had always been good at reading her, and the way his gaze traced over her face spoke volumes about what he was seeing there.

This wasn’t the time for such heavy conversations and Nell shook her head in response. “I’ll tell you after we take everything in. If you wait till I drop this off I’ll come and help with the trunks.”

He didn’t tell her no this time, just stared at her another moment then leaned in to kiss her again, lightly. “If you want.”

“I do.”

She felt his humored rush of breath pass over her face before he stepped back and let her head into the house.


	7. An Hour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set during Trespasser, Nell visits Cullen before going through the mirror for the last time.

“I leave in an hour.”

Nell said the words like they were an apology, and perhaps they were.

She had come to him last in her round of goodbyes, eyes shadowed and words tense with the emotions that he knew she wouldn’t speak of.

He had an hour.

An hour before she stepped back through the mirror, an hour before he might never see her again.

He didn’t want to waste any of it.

It had been hard to send her after Corypheus, even with soldiers at her back and her friends at her side, but even through his fear he’d had hope. Hope in the Maker, hope in the mark, hope in her.

But now?

Cullen didn’t let himself look at her arm as her drew her closer, didn’t let himself see the sickly green glow that was slowly taking over; the pulse of it painful enough, he knew, to keep her expression strained and her attention not quite focused. He also didn’t let himself see how pale she was, or how exhaustion carved itself into her skin, or the deep purple smudged around bloodshot eyes. Instead he pulled her toward him, and buried his face into her neck.

He knew her, knew the smell of her, the feel of her in his arms, and the taste of her against his tongue; he remembered every smile, every gesture, every sound that was his alone, but he made himself try and memorize it all over again.

And then Nell’s fingers were flexing into his back, and her face was pushing itself further into his shoulder and he knew, just like he knew everything else about her, she was trying to do the same thing.

An hour wasn’t enough.

It wasn’t nearly enough when you had hoped, dreamed, counted on a lifetime. It wasn’t enough when you knew that what waited after could likely feel like an eternity if they weren’t there with you. It wasn’t enough when you would continue to age, change, live, while they stayed always the same in your mind, lost to dreams and hopes that died along with them.

It wasn’t enough, and it wasn’t fair.

Cullen’s arms tightened on their own, some vain attempt to pull her into him, make her a part of him, so that this wouldn’t have to end. He wouldn’t have to let go of her, wouldn’t have to watch her pull away, and wouldn’t have to chance her going somewhere that they both knew he couldn’t follow.

Not now, not yet.

“I love you.”

Precious word, coming from her. 

“I love you so much. I’m sorry.”

Cullen wasn’t sure what the apology was for. Wasn’t sure if she meant to say she was sorry for leaving him, or if she was sorry for making him love her in the first place. As if she could have stopped him.

But apologies weren’t needed, not for this, not for them, and so he made himself release her, his hands coming up to skim over her leather clad arms as he searched for words to make her understand.

“I’m not. You are the best thing that could have ever happened to me. I could live a thousand more lifetimes and I will never forget a single moment of this, of us, not a single heartbeat.”

And then she was pulling him back down, her lips cutting off his continued declarations of love, and if they both pretended that their hands did not slip over suddenly damp skin as they cupped each other’s faces it mattered little.

“If I can come back, I will,” Nell murmured, the words felt more than heard as their breath mixed between them. She knew that he wouldn’t want false bravado, though she so often defaulted to it, and so simply gave what she could.

He had no doubt that she would try.

And then the hour was over.


	8. Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A prompt from more-aoe on Tumblr

She came back broken.

It was all mostly a blur, long stretches of consciousness lost to dreams of too bright mirrors and the snapping smile of a wolf.

She felt withered, empty, as if a large part of her had been snuffed out and buried along with the ashes of her destroyed arm. Her world had been broken, flattened, twisted out from under her until she didn’t know what might be left.

She could feel him near her through all of it, every raging cry into fevered dreams met with a cool hand that pulled her back even as she screamed to be let go. They had no need for the broken thing she had become.

But he didn’t let her disappear, didn’t let the dark, sick bed thoughts drag her under. Instead he held her up, hands as gentle as if she was spun glass, and too tight a grip would leave her shattered. She would open her eyes to see him staring at her, as if his gaze alone could hold her in the world.

Slowly, it seemed to work, and when she could sit up, focus on him for more than a handful of moments, he continued to look at her, at the useless husk she now was, as if she were precious, new, unsoiled by everything that had happened.

Maybe, if he continued to do so, she would one day feel like it wasn’t a lie.


End file.
